Witchhunt
by Analogk37
Summary: Warning Dark Fic Repost An alternate look at a Post 2040 possiblity. Who might the survivors of the boomer plague blame for their problems, and more importantly why?


Repost

Disclaimer: I don't own BGC 2032, 2040, 2041, ADPolice, Parasite Dolls, or anything else remotely resembling this Anime universe.

Now it's time to get serious again…

Witch Hunt

A Fanfic of Bubblegum Crisis Post 2040

By Analogk37

Christianity wasn't very prevalent in Tokyo before the quake of '33. However, that catastrophic natural disaster seemed to plant the seeds of reform just underneath the social structure of the Japanese people themselves. But that alone wasn't enough to sway the masses towards a large-scale transformation of deep-rooted Buddhist beliefs. However, when a manmade disaster of Galatea's proportion devastated Tokyo seven years later, the survivors were more than receptive to the new winds of change blowing through the mountains just to the west of ruined city.

The chilling winds howled through the crumbling buildings, biting into the tattered short sleeve shirt worn by the little boy. "Mommy, I'm cold," he complained, struggling to keep up with the taller woman pulling on his arm.

"I told you to find a jacket somewhere, didn't I?" the woman answered, not bothering to turn back to check on him. "Besides, I've told you a million times to get some warmer clothes before winter comes. All you've done instead is cry about your family. How many times do I have to tell you that you've got to look out for yourself from now on," she added unsympathetically.

"But Mommy…"

"And stop calling me that!"

The boy was on the verge of tears, but weeks of hardened practice kept them at bay. Opportunities for that practice had been plentiful since the metal monsters had woken from his nightmares and taken his family away. "Mo…" the child started before catching his own mistake this time. "…you said we'd see the bad people who made the monsters today, right?"

The woman stopped her march through the ruins for a moment as she turned around to look into the face of the young boy being forced to grow up much too soon. "Yes. Yes, today we'll see them… and today they will pay for their sins."

"Mommy, what's a sin?"

The woman frowned for just a moment as she looked away, annoyed by his persistent use of that word but also considering how to explain to the young one just what he was about to see. "Well, a sin is a very bad thing. It's… it's like stealing…"

"Did the bad people steal the monsters from somebody?"

"No. No, they didn't. They… well… maybe the Preacher can tell you when we see him."

"Are we going to see the Preacher now?"

"Yes we are. Now lets hurry up before we miss it," she said, turning back through the ruined alley, nearly breaking into a run as the little boy's sore legs quickly tired from the effort of keeping up with her.

After a few more minutes of dragging him through the desolate streets, the woman finally reached the growing crowd in a meeting place outside of one of the churches still left standing. The woman maneuvered around until she found a perch on a broken concrete slab. Climbing up to the summit, she reached a hand down to the young boy and lifted him up to sit next to her.

The child raised his head up to see over the top of the surrounding crowd. All around the gathering were bombed out buildings, broken glass, burned out cars… and a haphazardly constructed wooden stage. The stage drew his attention not because of the recycled wood that made up its discolored composition, but for the four objects rising up from it… with four people strapped to them, bound tightly to unforgiving tee-shaped wooden beams. "Mommy, they don't have much clothes on."

"It's to bare their souls to the one's they have hurt."

"But aren't they cold?"

"No colder than their hearts must have been to do this to Tokyo."

Both stopped and listened as the Preacher stood up on the platform and faced the gathered masses. The steel faced man dressed in dust covered black robes wore a grim look of disgust on his face as he prepared to address the jury surrounding the four accused behind him. "All around us are the reminders of the sins of these people, ones who have brought death and disease up from the depths of the earth. This, however, was not their worst act of evil and villainy. They have committed the ultimate sin… they have attempted to replace God himself. Their mockery of the almighty shall not go unpunished, and God's will is that they must answer for their sins."

Turning towards the first captive in line, the dark robed man looked into glassed over, blank eyes… the eyes of the one with long, matted light blue hair.

This woman was clothed in a similar fashion as the other three… little more than a light brown fabric sack that appeared to have holes cut in either side to allow her arms to protrude out of the paper-thin material. The oversized covering partially flapped in the sharp breeze… at least the parts that weren't tied down by the rough rope strapping the accused to the stout wooden cross. The rope further bound the woman's arms out to either side of the parading structure as well as pinning her bare legs together in several abraded locations.

With his voice raised enough to be heard by even the stragglers in the back of the gathered crowd, the Preacher addressed the first captive. "Sylia Stingray, do you admit the sins of your past? Do you repent against the evil you not only helped to create once, but released again to wreak havoc on this earth?"

The weary woman raised her pale face to her accuser; her lips shaded a purplish, blue tint from over-exposure to the autumn air. Her dry voice cracked under the stress, but the fire within her soul still burned with anger. "I didn't… I never wanted that thing to walk the face of this earth again… I told you before, I was trying to destroy it!"

"Then how do you explain its undisturbed dormant state until YOU fired the cannon that opened the door to its cage within the bowels underneath this once proud city?"

"I said, I was trying…"

"SILENCE! Enough of your lies. You are the Mother of this Evil and yet you do not accept or even recognize your role in its slaughtering of so many innocent lives."

"NO! No, you're wrong," Sylia argued, bowing her head in resignation. "I do accept my role. Galatea may have been released because of my acts… but I never wanted it to be this way," she continued to explain, glancing over in the direction of the other prisoners momentarily as she struggled with her own responsibility. "All that… all that I ask is that you let the others go. They had nothing to do with this other than following my orders. If you're so damned determined to go through with this insanity, then please set these innocent women free."

"Innocent women? I hardly believe they are innocent," the Preacher retorted loud enough for the back rows of the gathered crowd to hear. Walking a few steps over to the next prisoner hanging on the wooden crosses, he gave another disgusted glance in her direction before turning to address his pupils below. "Priscilla Asagiri, rock singer," the Preacher announced, throwing one hand in the air to point out the raggedly dressed recipient of his accusations. "Is she innocent? Can one who spent so much of her short life corrupting the children of this city with her vile, filth ridden lyrics be considered innocent?" He punctuated his words by looking up into the face of the accused.

No rebuttal was forthcoming from the normally fiery Saber… nor would one come later. Her face was thankfully hidden from the eyes of the angered horde below, hiding the numerous knots and bruises unnaturally coloring her light skin. However, the many other parts of her body that weren't hidden told the rest of the story for her. They spoke volumes of the struggles she had put up as the mobs had dragged her into captivity. The purple, black, and blue welts that nearly covered the former singer's bound arms and legs grotesquely punctuated her resistance to the proceedings now damning her unwilling silence.

Sylia couldn't bear to look back at Priss again. Her heart, already shattered by the horrid events of the past couple of weeks, was wrenched completely off kilter at the sight of the other women being hauled before the frothing wolves below. Especially tortuous had been the obvious beatings dealt to the one who had been her strongest warrior throughout the crusade to stop Galatea. Those beatings left the former Blue Saber hanging on the verge of death; now blissfully unconscious to the trial they now hung before.

The Knight Sabers' leader silently mourned the fact she never had to the chance to thank Priss for what she had done. Sylia had only found out the truth through Mackey, who after awakening from his own Galatea induced fog was able to relay to her everything that had happened. With those memories came a fresh stab of despair into Sylia's heart… _Mackey… I'm so sorry... _She vividly recalled exactly what they had done to him when the lynch mob discovered his true identity… the true nature of his construction… The continuing rant of the Preacher pulled her thoughts from her 'brother' and back to the terrible reality of the present.

"Not only was her public life full of shame and sin, but her private life was even worse. She wore the blue armor of a vigilante group, waging war against the law enforcement men and women of this city. On several occasions, she deliberately attacked and killed our own police officers. Then she would later flaunt her rebel attitude in seedy establishments, basking in undeserved praise while inwardly gloating over her killing ways. She might have gotten away with these acts if she hadn't become so greedy for power… she, the one who joined with the false God… she tried to become what is forbidden. She has partaken in the ultimate sin, and she shall pay for her mistakes."

The mob below cheered on with the Preacher's accusations, their roar falling on the deaf ears of the lead singer, thankfully unaware as to her fate. The Preacher then walked to the next cross in line and stood in front of a sobbing blond headed girl, head bowed in resignation. He then faced into the crowd once more. "Nene Romanova, ADP dispatcher and computer hacker," he proclaimed to the jury beneath him. "She too led a double life. She broke not only the oath as a human being by committing the vile acts that led to the ruins now surrounding us, but she furthermore violated the oath she took as a defender of the law. She utilized her inside contacts to allow the vigilante group to remain hidden from the law-abiding citizens of this once great city and to continue to subvert the authority of the AD Police."

Nene's eyes flashed up into the back of the Preacher's head with more than a hint of anger. As she lifted her head though, the young girl's vision was drawn to the people past him, recognizing a couple of the faces as those she had worked with in the ADP… people who now burned their hatred back into her with their own eyes. _Don't they know… Don't they remember what we really did… _

"How can she be considered innocent when she has broken every vow she has ever taken?"

"How can you just stand there and spread these lies about us!" Nene fired back.

The Preacher slowly turned to question the accused hanging on the cross behind him. "Lies? Are they lies young lady? I think not. In fact, your entire life has been nothing but a lie…"

"IT… IS… NOT! I… WE did what we had to do to stop Galatea…"

"Stop her? I look around and see the contradiction in your claims as plain as the light that now shines down on the truth of your acts," the Preacher retorted with a grandiose wave of one robed hand, stretched out to the crumbling towers surrounding them. "But you didn't really want to stop Galatea as you say. In fact, you too desired to join with her… or at least one part of her, didn't you?"

"Wha… What are you talking about!?!"

"It seems as if your memory has become clouded along with your better judgment. But then again, forbidden love can have that effect as the scripture teaches us."

"Forbidden… love… no… mack… mackey… wait… What have you done with him!?! Where's Mackey!?!"

The Preacher turned back towards the crowd with a grim frown scowling his face. "Him. Even now she still insists on calling 'it' a 'him'." The man dressed in the long, black robe signaled with one wrinkled hand towards the back of the crowd. Within a few moments, the masses began to part with audible gasps and cries of shock.

"NENE! Don't! Please, just look away…" Sylia tried to warn her.

But Nene found herself unable to pry her eyes from the approaching disturbance… even though her heart tried to listen to the warnings as if it knew what had already happened… and what she was about to endure…

"We did not know much of what happened following the false God's rise to the sky… until we learned of another of its kind. Once the data stored in its memory was extracted…" Before the Preacher could continue his explanation, a wail from the woman behind him drowned out his words.

"MACKEY!!! No… no… you bastards… what… WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!! MACKEY!!!… Mackey… mackey… no… you can't be… no…" The young girl's cries grew incoherent as her heart splintered into the fragments lain out in the rotting wooden cart dragged in front of the crowd. Her tear streaked face rained with the pain of loss of the one she had fought so hard for… the one she had risked her life for, the one she was willing to die to try and save. Before her sat a cart in which twisted metallic electronic components drowned in a mass of oozing organic matter… all that remained of the being she knew as Mackey Stingray.

"As you all can see, her very soul is still corrupted by the evil that spawned this construct… this machine of destruction. Is she worthy of…"

"Just leave her the Hell alone! Haven't you done enough to her already!?!"

The distraught voice broke up the streams of accusations from the Preacher, forcing the elder statesman to turn his balding head towards the remaining yet unidentified woman hanging on the wooden crosses. "I think Hell will have its say in short order young lady, for the scripture teaches us what the punishment for these kinds of sins shall be." He faced back to the masses as he spoke once more. "Linna Yamazaki, office employee of the Hugh Geit Corporation." The Preacher walked to stand directly into the woman's face, a stern look in his burning eyes. "You are the one person here least corrupted by the evil born from this mad plot. You have not joined with the false idol lifted to the heavens… although you did attempt to by following the others. You did not take part in the killing of innocent civilians and law enforcement officers… although you wore the armor similar to the ones who did. You did not fall under the spell of forbidden love… even though the evidence extracted from the boomers memory circuits suggests your thoughts were not entirely pure either."

"You, Linna Yamazaki, are the only one of these four who deserves a second chance at a life on this earth. Simply repent against your evil ways, rebuke the sins of those who hath temped you, ask for forgiveness from the people standing before you, the people who are no longer able to be with us, and finally from God himself. He will listen to you, my child. Your tainted soul can yet be saved."

Linna's burning arms and shoulders begged her to consider… images of her Mother and Father pleaded with her to listen to reason… thoughts of home called her back from the edge she so narrowly teetered on… then the voices began whispering to her soul. She glanced over and saw Sylia and Nene, both with tears streaming down their faces, softly calling to her… quivering lips mouthing the words… _"It's Ok… Please go… Save yourself…"_

But as she could see the selflessness they now acted with, she also saw the person who couldn't say anything… _Priss… _Realizing what they had done to her friend, her heart hardened against what the Preacher stood for. She thought back to happier times, fighting alongside the blue hardsuit, laughing with Nene the jokester, standing next to Sylia as she led them into battle against Galatea… then of the battle in space, fighting against the evil that threatened to break her will… and of Priss' selfless attitude… ordering herself and Nene to stay back while the Blue Saber tried to go back into the power station alone. Her decision then became her decision now as she shifted her hardened glare back into the awaiting Preacher standing in front of her. "I won't abandon my friends just for convenience. I became a Knight Saber by choice, and I choose to stand next to them now, whatever the outcome may be."

"So be it. Then you shall be judged for their sins as well as your own," the disapproving man warned as he walked away from the helpless woman and stood before the crowd once again. "Let us pray for their souls," the Preacher added darkly as he bowed his head in silence.

The gathered masses bowed their heads with him as they prayed in unison for divine guidance on how they should handle the soldiers of the devil before them. Only lingering pangs of grief from the blond haired girl strung to the cross disturbed the silence chilling the air around the church. Even the wind itself appeared to hold its breath in dreaded anticipation.

Another sound creaked from the back of the crowd as the cart with the remains of Sylia's brother bounced and jerked its way over the broken ground. Two men pulling the cart passed another person standing in the shadows of a demolished building, only to stop a meter or so past.

"What do you want us to do with it sir?"

"It has served its purpose now. Atomize it… I want no traces left whatsoever."

"Very well." The men carried on as they dragged the cart away.

The tall man, wearing his hair pulled back into a ponytail, gazed back over the silent sea of worshippers in front of him and smiled. He reached inside of his clean sports jacket and retrieved a white cloth, which he used to clean the dust from his circular shaped spectacles. Resituating the glasses on the bridge of his crooked nose, the new head of the Tokyo branch of Genom flexed his cybernetic fingers… their cold metal feel a reminder of the near death experience he suffered while acting as Mason's right hand man… unfortunately just as the madman had released his hold on Galatea to let her take the city piece by crumbling piece.

He knew he was lucky to be alive, but the man wasn't satisfied with just being thankful for that and living out the rest of his life. Opportunity presented itself in strange ways sometimes, and the chance to lead the rebuilding efforts from a top position within a reorganized Genom was one opportunity he couldn't let slip through his reconstructed fingers. The biggest obstacle in his path was the resistance of the people of Japan to allow the company they felt responsible for the destruction to have a second chance at it again. Thus he needed to find another avenue for their distrust… and his prior position gave him the knowledge necessary to direct their anger in a more 'productive' direction.

The man's sly smile grew even more crooked as he recalled the ferocity at which the remnants of Tokyo pursued his suggestion of questioning Stingray in connection with Galatea's rise to the surface. Across several continents they searched until all of her associates were either in captivity, killed, or worse… The Knight Sabers never knew what hit them… nor were they given a chance to regroup as the man's suggestion of keeping them separated until the trial was heeded with the utmost caution.

He glared into the shivering remains of what had been one of the biggest thorns in the side of Genom's internal reputation for the last few months. The vigilante group would trouble them no longer; of this he was certain. Governments, labor unions, the Yakuza, or church leadership… it didn't matter to him. Any of them could just as easily be manipulated as the other. A sprinkle of information here, a trickle of truth there, all would do his bidding in the end… of this he was certain as well.

The Preacher broke into the trance surrounding the masses with a simple phrase… "It is done." A few mumbles from the risen heads below filtered up to the stage before the sentence could be passed. "God has seen enough from these four to know that for them to continue living on his earth would be too severe a burden for the rest of his loyal followers to have to shoulder. Therefore he commands that their time on this earth be ended… as of now." With another wave of his hand a group of deacons approached from the back to pass through the startled people below. A few protested their rough passage as the burly men forced their way to the front of the masses, drawing weapons of the church to point into the prone women hanging on the crosses.

Sylia turned her head away from the sight of the guns pointed at her, shutting her eyes tightly against the cold reality now about to end her life. That life, full of so much misery and abuse, began to flash through her mind… only to fast-forward to the three people who had saved her from the demons of her past. Regret swelled within her broken heart, forcing the leader of the Knight Sabers to open her eyes again to her teammates one final time. With a cracking voice, she called out to them… "I'm sorry… Linna, Nene, Priss… I'm so sorry it came to this…"

The Preacher, now perched behind the line of God's army, began to bark out orders. "Ready…"

"It… it doesn't matter Sylia," Linna replied behind her own choked back tears. "Nene was right, we did what we had to do… even if they don't realize it…"

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive them though," Nene's own defeated voice added. "Mackey… why… why did they…"

"Aim!" The foot solders of righteousness cocked their rifles and lined the barrels into the corrupted hearts of the damned.

"They don't understand Nene… they've never understood what he really was," Sylia answered her questions. "Only one very special person was able to see into his soul, and that was you… he… loved you Nene. I know he never got the chance to tell you, but he told me… and now at least you know…"

"Thank you Sylia," Nene said, closing her eyes and raising her head up to face into her fate, knowing that she was at least truly loved by someone before her life prematurely came to a close.

"Fire!"

As the echoes of the popping gunfire died away, the little boy heard the sound of fluttering wings in the sky above. He lifted his head from out of his covering hands, opening his eyes to the gray sky overhead to watch as a flock of doves flew from the church tower and into the city, frightened by the sudden rapport. A lone drop of water fell onto his young face, a prelude to the soft shower that began to weep from the river of clouds above. The boy reflexively lowered his head from the water splashing on his face, his vision falling to the four bodies still hung to the crosses. The image before him burned in the back of the boy's impressionable mind… the sight of the four lifeless forms, red streaks now flowing down their clothing, running across ghostly white legs, dripping onto the wet wood below, the puddles washed away by the clear liquid falling from the heavens.

Sadness punctured the boy's heart despite the 'teachings' from the Preacher. Even though he barely understood the difference between 'right' and 'wrong', the boy only knew how he felt concerning what he now saw. Motion around him distracted the young one's thoughts as he noticed the crowd beginning to shuffle out of the rain and into the church… their collective indifference to the brutal slayings they had just witnessed almost as striking as the acts themselves.

A flicker of light above drew his attention back towards the sky. The growing brightness that illuminated the air below the clouds forced the boy to vigorously rub his eyes. As he reopened them, the focus of his vision resolved the light into four distinct shapes slowly rising into the air above the platform. The shapes further clarified into something close to human forms… with wings perched on their backs. The boy found himself giggling as three of the forms began to tease the fourth, gently stroking and tugging on the feathery appendages on its back… all while it spun around vainly trying to chase the other three away.

"What do you find so funny about this?" the older woman chided him.

"Them… up there… Don't you see them?" he replied, pointing at the glowing shapes playing across the sky.

"See what?" the doubting elder countered, lifting her own head into the harsh sky.

"The angels… they're chasing each other…"

"It's just the clouds playing tricks on your mind," the disbeliever suggested. "Come on, let's get inside before we catch a cold."

The boy hesitated as he watched the shrinking mass of people blindly march into the oversized door of the church. He shook his head and spied into the sky to try and catch a glimpse of the rising angels again, his heart believing the truth his eyes had witnessed and not the logic his guardian employed. His efforts were rewarded as he was able to watch four figures lift higher into the sky. Then the clouds themselves appeared to part just as they reached the natural ceiling above, opening a shaft of light that drew the four angels into the heavens, the clouds closing up behind them after they passed through.

"Are you coming?" the woman called back to the boy still standing on the concrete perch.

"No, I'm going to find a jacket on my own," he answered with a sense of confidence in his young voice.

"Fine. You know where I'll be later."

"I know. I'll find you if I need any help," the boy replied as he climbed down and turned towards a promising looking apartment high rise. Carefully picking his way over the ragged asphalt chunks, he resolved to find the things he needed by himself, and to trust the truth his heart showed him in the present… not the tales spun from treacheries of the past.

Fin

A/N: I drew the inspiration for this story from a couple of things. One was Priss' whole "I'm no angel" sideline in the 2040 series; the other being the fact that most other post 2040 fanfics have all the KS alive and somewhat well following Galatea's housecleaning efforts. Nothing wrong with that other than I thought both possibilities should be explored.


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